Hermione finds herself torn between the feelings she still holds for her ex-lover, and the way she is utterly enamoured by her new friend. The biggest problem? Her ex is Draco Malfoy. Her friend? His wife, Astoria.
Additional Tags: POV Hermione Granger, Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Good Draco Malfoy, Sexual Tension, Past Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Astoria Greengrass Friendship, Bisexual Astoria Greengrass, Confused Hermione Granger, Simp Draco Malfoy, Draco is soft for his girls, Feelings Realization, sexual awakening, Explicit Sexual Content, Threesome - F/F/M, Triad - Freeform, First time with a woman, Sexual tension between friends, Cunnilingus, Blow Jobs, Penetrative Sex, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Hermione is greedy, Hermione and Astoria can’t get enough of each other, Dramione Reunion, Dating a married couple, Healer Hermione Granger, Inspired by Fanart
One-shot, 9k. New Theomione fic up on AO3 as part of the House of Nott Discord's Valentine's Day event!
EXCERPT:
“Granger, you can’t be serious. I’m tipsy,” (understatement), “and we are in the middle of a tropical storm, hundreds of miles from the shore. If I try to Apparate now, I may just splinch myself in half.”
She splashed her hands about, at a loss. “Then do it! Have St. Mungo’s grow back the bits you leave behind, but get out of my bathroom!”
The ever-present amiable quality to Nott’s face seemed to dim into the ghost of hurt. “You don’t really hate me that much, do you?”
Hermione blinked. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Nott, I’m just—” I’m just in the bath, naked, and you’re here without invitation, this is a complete surprise, I don’t want to discuss my breakup with Ron, and, as you can see, my response here is perfectly reasonable. This is what she intended to say. What came out, instead, was: “Are you wearing my shirt?”
(OR: I wrote a fluffy Theodore Nott/Hermione Granger fic for the @the-house-of-nott's "Nott Another Love Story Valentine's Day Fest.")
Prompt: Hermione dies and her soul accidently gets send to hell. But when Harry turns up at the doorstep of Tom, the ruler of the underworld, begging him to correct the mistake and release his childhood friend, he is not amused. Needless to say Tom has grown fond of Hermione and seems to be more than a little reluctant to hand that mortal's soul over.
Hm..
~Kyoki
“He will come for me” the curly haired girl’s words rang in his head, even though they were spoken so long ago.
At the time he had scoffed, told her that no god, demi god or otherwise, would ever come to her aid.
She was here for a reason, she had done some great wrong. Her soul was his to torture for all eternity.
Her pleas and denials had fallen on deaf ears. He had heard the sob stories a million times. Those who pleaded tended to be the guiltiest.
He had put her on the rack, and though she screamed in pain, tears running down her face, she never begged him to stop.
Weeks went by, him coming every day, to punish her himself, wanting her to beg for his mercy. It never came.
Two weeks in she was broken, her tears ran freely and her body was a tangled mess of broken bones and bruises. He expected her to beg that day, but she hadn’t, even as he tore into her flesh.
Then finally it came.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry about?” he asked, pausing only momentarily on his tortured.
“I failed him. I died and now he is alone” it was a whisper, he wasn’t even sure he had heard it.
The sincerity of it, the fact her regret, after unceasing torture, was that she left someone alone, gave him pause.
He left her there, sobbing out apologies, wondering if someone had actually made a mistake.
Was this soul not meant to be here?
In the end, it was his most loyal subject that told him the truth. His nephew had a childhood friend named Hermione, the very girl he had been torturing. She had been killed, mistaken for another woman, Bellatrix, a murderer, an insane creature.
Somehow her soul had come here instead of heaven.
It was a mistake that had never happened.
Voldemort wasn’t sure how to react to it. He had tortured many in his times as the god of hell.
Never an innocent.
He had gone to her, watched as her eyes came to his, tears flowing “again?” she asked, and the pain and sorrow were tangible. He could feel it himself.
He went to her side, watching as she braved his presence, even as her body obviously wanted to shrink away.
He did the unthinkable. loosening her restraints, pulling her mangled body and soul into his arms.
He didn’t know what to do with this soul that had been wrongly sent to him, but he knew punishing her for it was not something he could do.
The gods had forsaken her. Had given her to him.
It was now his job to take care of her, in anyway he deemed necessary.
The thought stayed with him as he took her from the lower levels of hell, her body limp in his arms, though he knew she was alert.
Chapter 48 of A Contract Most Inconvenient is now up! [ffn] [ao3]
Hermione swallowed. “He threatened my child,” her voice broke over the words.
Draco stiffened. “He threatened—?”
Harry looked sick. “What did you just say?”
There was a crack of Apparation as someone disappeared.
“How?”
“Impossible, the wards are impenetrable—”
“When could have— the children barely leave the confines of our wards as it is—”
There was another crack of Apparition, followed by two others, and Hermione’s eyes locked on the four bundles wrapped in Kingsley and two elves’ arms. “They’re here. They’re safe,” Kingsley said.
I’ve seen this circulating forever and genuinely thought “no way do I have any of them following me” until this week when it turned out I had all these fuckin “MAP” (pedophile) followers sad to find out I’m an “anti” (normal person)
Please leave and also please get guinea worm.
Pedophilia is not welcome in the LGBTQ+ community nor are MAPs or pedophilia apologizers welcome on any of my blogs. If you support pedophilia, unfollow me. My blog is a safe space but I will not tolerate the sexualization of children.
I saw a post about “Please stop hitting on women while they’re at work” and I 100% agree with it, which is why I’m making a separate post to say please don’t hit on people in general when they’re at work.
I work at a bakery and we have this sweet 16 about to turn 17 year old boy who works up front of our store. He used to work at the place next door to us and, while he was there, a girl he was working with developed a bit of a crush on him and asked him out.
He said no, that he has a girlfriend (which she already knew) and thought they could just continue on being friends and coworkers.
Since beginning work at our bakery she stops in every single day and talks to him for the entirety of her 30 minute long break. He has told her multiple times that he’s at work and can’t stand around and talk and when I asked him if he was uncomfortable his response was a very relieved “Oh, God, yes.”
He’s tried to talk to one of the owners about it and his response was “You can talk to her after work” not realizing this poor boy is being made incredibly uncomfortable on a daily basis in the work place.
When we told him he could come into the back to find something to do if he needed to he was so incredibly thankful and relieved. This girl spent twenty minutes standing up front waiting for him to come back after he said he had to go do something. Twenty minutes in the front of the store ever after being told he can’t talk to her. He doesn’t know what would happen if he says that he doesn’t want to talk to her and is genuinely nervous every time she walks in.
The only reprieve he gets is from the bakers in the back saying “I get it. Come back here” because the Owners don’t understand that he, a male coworker, can be made uncomfortable by these unwanted advancements being made toward him.
Please.
This post isn’t made to undersell not hitting on women while they’re at work. I get that and that’s why this separate post exists.
Hermione snorted and got up from the visitors chair she’d helped Harry pick out a few months ago when he’d made head auror, and came to a stand beside him. He could see her fiddling with the hem of her skirt from the corner of his eye.
“No.”
“When are you going to? Do you want me to come with you?”
When she didn’t answer he finally looked up at her. She was wiping tears from her cheeks and avoiding his eye.
“You are telling him right?”
She shook her head but before he could open his mouth to reprimand her she was speaking. “It doesn’t change anything Harry. I’m still going for the obliviation. If anything, this news just makes me more determined to erase him from my life.”
“Hermio-”
He should have known better. He had been able to feel her magic crawling against his skin since she’d walked into his office.
“Don’t.” She glared down at him, pushing off of his desk to pace in front of it instead. “This is my decision,” she hissed. “He made his.”
Harry had never been a fan of Malfoys. But he’d also never seen Hermione happier than when they were together and so he’d bit his tongue and been civil and the two men had built a tentative ‘friendship’ because of their love for Hermione.
And when Hermione had shown up three weeks ago, pale and despondent, the words “he’s gone” falling from her mouth he’d assumed they’d simply had an argument and would make up in no time. Of course, when his engagement to one Astoria Greengrass was published in the prophet less than a week later, Harry began to suspect foul play.
Still, he wasn’t sure how he felt about keeping a child, the Malfoy Heir for all intents and purposes (bastard or not), a secret for the rest of his life.
Especially since Hermione was still planning on leaving to work for the ICW and having this baby and erasing her memories of the child’s father.
He took his glasses off and pressed his palms against his eyes in an effort to stave off the approaching headache, summoning a singular glass and a bottle of fire whiskey from the bureau on the opposite side of his office as he watched his best friend - the one ( and only one) who’d offer to come with him to his death and who he would give the world for - settled back into the chair in front of him and they began to plan for her future.
This prompt got away from me… a little bit.
Snippet: “Bloody Malfoy, of all people,” she muttered before replying, “I have to leave my conditioner in for another two minutes! Hold your hippogriffs, Malfoy! Sorry you may have to forego your hair products today!”
“Two minutes, Granger! That’s it and then I’m coming in!” he shouted through the door.
Hermione laughed to herself. “He wouldn’t really…”
Minus this morning’s rudeness, he’d actually been less of a git this year. Sometimes, he seemed downright courteous to her — holding doors, pulling chairs, pleasant greetings — and it had thrown her for a loop. Most of the time, they worked together amicably, though they hadn’t had many personal conversations, keeping the topics limited to Prefect rounds, school functions, and classwork.
As soon as she arched her back to rinse her hair with the shower spray, the door opened…
Description: Hermione and Draco return to Hogwarts to complete the final year of school and are matched together in a Valentine’s Matchmaking Survey. Only they can’t stand each other and would rather be matched with different people … until they can and wouldn’t.
Chapter(s): One Two
Draco froze, his eyes glued to the couple at the back of the pub as he stood motionless in front of the pub door. Although he had no right to feel jealous, he knew in that moment that jealousy was exactly what he felt. All term he had been so focused on work, school and Quidditch that he had failed to recognize the fact that he had feelings for Tracey.
It was quiet in the makeshift hospital ward that was located on the first floor of Grimmauld Place. Just the two of them, Hermione and her charge. She looked at the blonde, peaceful in his magical sleep.
It was a thousand wonders he was alive. She’d heard that Dolohov had caught sight of him across the battlefield and had viciously plowed through any and everyone just to get to him so he could curse him personally for turning his back on everything he’d ever known. When Nott had finally been able to bring Draco back she’d almost been unable to save him. He’d made it through by pure stubbornness and an adamant refusal to die.
When she’d sunk him into his magical slumber, a new technique they were incorporating for that specific curse, normally patents fell right to sleep and were essentially comatose. He, however, could tell when she was near and when she wasn’t. When she was gone he slept fitfully, twitching and grumbling. When she was in the room he quieted down into a semi-peaceful state. When she sat next to him however, is when he was at his most placid.
She’d had people bring her specific books she’d added to the Black library and would sit next to his bedside and read Tolkien and CS Lewis quietly to him for hours on end when she wasn’t brewing potions for the infirmary. They eventually just gave up on taking her upstairs, leaving her to sleep in bed next to his, wanting to ensure he rested well.
One night she fell asleep with her head tucked against her arm atop his mattress, cheek pressed against the open book she’d been reading from.
Sometime after midnight, something woke her up, something amiss in the nearly dark ward.
When she came back to her full faculties, she noticed a large, warm hand that had callouses from years of meticulous potion prep and broom riding intertwined with her own.
Her eyes darted up and met quicksilver groggily, yet fondly watching her.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hello,” he returned, voice gravelly from a lack of use.
Her eyes darted up to his ever hovering diagnostic to find that he was mostly repaired. Just a few days of bed rest and a few potions to take with his meals and he’d be good as new.
“I apologize for intruding, you just seemed to sleep better with someone nearby,” she muttered quickly, cheeks pinking.
“Not just someone, Hermione,” he said lowly, “but you should have looked after yourself and slept in a proper bed. I would have survived until you were back doing your normal hovering over your charges in the mornings.”
Right, bull by the horns then.
“You mean my charge, singular. And I have been sleeping in a bed. I usually take that one,” she went to point and found that their fingers were still snugly intertwined, a state he seemed uninterested in changing.
He stared at her before snapping out of his rapid train of thought.
“Come here,” he requested, tugging on her arm.
It was easy to see what he’d wanted. She went to move the book she’d been reading to him from, only to find it lying on his nightstand and wondered how long he’d been awake.
She climbed into bed with him, allowing him to rearrange her to where he was spooning her with her back to his chest and his arms holding her flush against him as if any moment someone might decide to rip her away.
“Everyone will know by tomorrow morning if we do this, Draco” she murmured against the pillow.
“Brushing elbows with Death can straighten out ones priorities in short order Granger. I care sod all what Saint Potter or his merry band of do-gooders think anymore. You deserve so much more than being a secret in the first place and I aim to rectify that post haste,” he muttered against her braid, nuzzling his nose against it.
She would have marveled over the abrupt about face he’d taken in regards to their relationship and the obvious public display if his very warm self and the steady, strong heartbeat she felt thudding away against her back hadn’t drug her down into a blissful sleep. Draco watched until he was sure she was under, then followed her into dreams.
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